The politics of influence define our culture

In today’s political climate, neutrality is becoming increasingly difficult and arguably indefensible, especially for those with large public platforms. As political tensions intensify and policy decisions carry tangible consequences for everyday people, celebrities, influencers, and public figures are no longer just entertainers or trendsetters. They are cultural actors whose silence, alignment, or engagement can shape public perception and civic behavior.

Recent public controversies illustrate this shift. A few months ago, the internet erupted over news surrounding Charlie Kirk, exposing a deep social divide between those who framed him as a martyr and those who viewed him as representative of fascist ideology. That fractured friendships, personal relationships, communities, and digital spaces. We can no longer comfortably engage with individuals who support or excuse systems rooted in fascism, racism, discrimination, or the denial of fundamental civil rights.

For many communities, particularly Black, immigrant, and other marginalized groups, politics have never been abstract. Policy decisions have always shaped daily survival, opportunity, and safety. What’s changing now is that fewer people can afford to treat politics as distant or theoretical. Today, birthright citizenship is back on the docket. Abortion rights,affirmative action, and environmental protections  — issues hard-won through decades of advocacy— are increasingly precarious and actively under threat. No one is unscathed.

Reaction to Nicki Minaj’s recent appearance alongside President Trump at the Trump Summit exemplifies this shift. During the event, she spoke positively about Trump and his administration and received a “Trump Gold Card” as a memento. Even if symbolic, the “Gold Card” placed Minaj, a Trinidadian immigrant, under direct scrutiny. Meanwhile, ICE continues to terrorize immigrant communities by detaining, deporting, killing people, and tearing families apart. This spectacle reduces immigration policy to a joke. The message is clear: proximity to power, loyalty to authority, or “kissing the ring” can grant immunity or reward, while millions suffer under the same system.

Once a vocal critic of Trump’s immigration policies, Minaj’s public alignment with this administration reflects this message. She is now framed as one of his most enthusiastic celebrity supporters. Whatever prompted that change, it illustrates how proximity to political power can translate into cultural legitimacy. Celebrity endorsements aren’t just casual opinions; they operate as political currency. In the current media landscape, these endorsements signal legitimacy, accelerate propaganda, and signal to audiences what is acceptable. When a celebrity aligns with political power, they are helping define culture.

This symbolism stands in stark contrast to moments at this year’s Grammys, where several artists used their platforms to speak out against this administration. Olivia Dean, Best New Artist, spoke about being the granddaughter of an immigrant and described herself as “a product of bravery.” Kehlani, Best R&B Performance and Best R&B Song, ended their speech with a blunt “Fuck ICE.”

Bad Bunny, winner of Album of the Year and the upcoming Super Bowl LX headliner, declared, “ICE out. We’re not savage, we’re not animals, we’re not aliens…” Bad Bunny’s win was especially significant. DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS is the first Spanish-language album to win Album of the Year. It serves as a “love letter to Puerto Rico”, honoring its culture, people, and colonial history as a U.S. territory. These moments were deliberate acts of resistance in spaces that often avoid political confrontation.

Influencers, too, are being forced into this reckoning. Content creator Clarke Peoples recently addressed the danger of influencers who claim they “don’t do politics,” arguing that disengagement becomes harmful when millions consume their content as they generate profit from it. In a moment where survival itself is politicized, silence is not innocence — it is complicity. Celebrities, influencers, and the digital media ecosystems they exist in collectively hold immense power over public perception, shaping what people see, believe, and normalize every day.

We no longer live in a time where political neutrality is simply apolitical. Silence, refusal to challenge harmful policies, and, especially, public alignment with specific political power structures carry real social consequences. These are not separate occurrences but points along the same spectrum. Silence can normalize power, while endorsement actively amplifies it. The issue is not just political disagreement. It is the willingness to trade moral accountability for political favor and to benefit from systems that harm others while helping normalize them.

Responsibility also doesn’t end with public figures. Civic engagement takes different forms for all of us, and we may not all have equitable time, safety, and resources. Still, we have a moral responsibility to speak out against prejudice. We can do this in ways that may seem small but are meaningful, such as boycotting companies that financially support harmful policies or political actors, participating in protests and economic blackouts, reposting or resharing information, and supporting community organizations.

Disengagement is no longer harmless, and social platforms are no longer passive tools. They shape identity and viewpoints, serve as social ecosystems, and normalize what we see every day. Politics cannot be avoided on platforms and by people who actively influence public opinion. Silence protects systems by default, and when individuals benefit from a system yet opt out of accountability, they help sustain it. No one is required to speak on everything. But when you do speak, or choose not to, it shapes what becomes acceptable.